


what penance due to innocence

by Nibelung



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 08:29:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14849277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nibelung/pseuds/Nibelung
Summary: To reforge a sword, you must first grind it to pieces.Based on the August 1975 third-draft script.





	what penance due to innocence

They found her unconscious in the cell, they told her later: a sixteen-year-old girl, covered in cuts and bruises, her head shaven, floating upside-down in the grip of an antigrav unit. Her only garment, a knee-length shirt-like prison robe with short sleeves, had fallen down to armpit level, exposing her nether parts and one breast to the three heroes’ unprepared gaze.

Not exactly the sort of introduction that a Princess of Organa Major was accustomed to making.

It was Chewbacca who, waking first from his astonishment, blasted the antigrav unit. She fell into Luke’s arms, a pile of warm flesh unlike anything he’d felt before, and he buckled under the sudden weight. Chewbacca took the burden from his arms, slinging her easily over one shoulder.

They made their escape through the sewers of the floating city, at last finding their way back to the docking bay where the _Millennium Falcon_ was stowed.

By this time she had woken, with considerable surprise, to find herself the object of a rescue in progress. She didn’t think much of her rescuers’ competence, but they said General Kenobi was with them, and given what bad liars they were, she supposed they were actually telling the truth.

So the four of them, picking up C-3PO and R2-D2 along the way, made their way safely to the ship.

As the _Falcon_ ’s boarding ramp lowered, Luke caught site of a duel taking place beyond an open blast door: Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, was facing off in lightsaber combat against Ben Kenobi, last of the Jedi Knights.

With a sudden movement Ben leapt through the blast door, then smashed the controls, sealing the door and cutting Vader off from his prey. But the Jedi was wounded by a slash from Vader’s blade in doing so, and he collapsed on the other side of the closed door. Luke charged forward to retrieve him, and Leia, despite her trepidation, followed. Together they hauled the unconscious Kenobi aboard the _Falcon_.

Soon they had stowed the old Jedi safely in a hospital bunk, and within minutes the ship was blasting upward through the cloudy atmosphere of Alderaan, rocketing away from the floating Imperial prison into the vastness of space.

A handful of TIE fighters tried to contest their departure, but with Han and Luke manning the _Falcon_ ’s left and right gun turrets, the pursuers were dispatched easily.

_Poor bastards_ , Leia thought, _dying without ever realizing they were sent on a suicide mission just to make us think we’d got away clean_.

But she remembered Captain Antilles’ screams, and the destruction of Organa Major on the holoscreen, and the ache between her legs, and that line of thought went away quickly.

As Luke settled into a seat at the holochess table, and Han waited for the navicomputer to finish calculating a hyperspace route, Leia’s mind turned at last to more trivial matters.

 

“Do you have a clothes closet on this hunk of junk?” she asked Han, poking at the deckplates with one grimy foot.

“Well, sure, Princess, but most of the stuff in there’d probably be too big for you.”

“Really? You seem like the type of guy who carries around a set of women’s clothes in every size just in case he meets one.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Your Worship, but this is a pirate ship. I’m not in the habit of having women on board.”

“I can imagine.” She fiddled in one hand with the high hemline of her prison garment, staring at it absently. “Shame, though. I hate this stupid thing.”

“Well, if you hate it so much, why don’t you just go naked?” Her head shot up as suddenly she looked him in the face. “Not like we’d be seeing anything we haven’t seen already,” he added, careful to avoid her gaze.

She made no reply, but stared at him, her eyes burning with outrage and a hot flush on her cheeks. “Sorry,” he said, and turned to leave the room.

She reached up to tug on her braids in irritation – a nervous habit of long standing that her governesses had failed to break her of – and her hand closed on empty air. Her long shining hair, hair that had been cut only a handful of times in sixteen years, was gone: taken by her jailors along with her homeworld, her virginity, and her innocence.

A small voice whispered in her head, _The hell with it._

Without further ado, she pulled the garment over her head and dumped it on the floor.

From his seat at the holochess table, Luke stared at her, his jaw agape.

Catching her motion out of the corner of his eye, Han turned again to face the Princess. She made no move to cover herself, but rather kept her hands at her sides, kept her gray eyes level with his.

“Be careful what you wish for, Captain Solo. You might get it.”


End file.
